


The Missing Pieces

by IndigoButterfly



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fix-It, Post-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-10-28 16:48:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20781851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoButterfly/pseuds/IndigoButterfly
Summary: Eight scenes built around Season 8 canon, which bring Arya and Gendry together, or - what would have been, with a little more time and care.This happened, we just didn't see it.





	1. Prologue - The White Horse

**Author's Note:**

> There is no getting around the fact that Game of Thrones ended the way it did. No matter how much head canon we create for ourselves or how many stories we write, it is what it is and in the end, we can't change it. But Arya and Gendry survived the Long Night and beyond, and there was so much left unsaid and unexplored, that we can fill in the blanks with our own imaginations. Working within canon, there is space to create our own, and that's what I have done with this, my first fan fiction.

The cold Northern wind whips around Gendry's face as his white horse plods forward towards Winterfell. He'd never been comfortable on horseback, and he was even less so as part of a Royal entourage. As they near the castle, he is surprised see crowds gathered to watch the approach of the Dragon Queen. The thought of all those distrustful Northern eyes on him gives him a distinctly unsettled feeling, like he is in some sort of bizarre dream.

Determined, he sets his gaze ahead, avoiding meeting the eyes of his onlookers. Suddenly, he feels a prickle at the back of his neck, and from the corner of his eye, he sees her. Dark hair, a heart-shaped face, piercing grey eyes, wrapped in a cloak. Sucking in a sudden breath of sharp, cold air, he turns in an instant, to search for the small figure he is certain he's seen, just as a dragon soars overhead, causing a commotion in the crowd and blocking his view. Gendry's stomach sinks; she's vanished. Turning his gaze forward again, he squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath. _She's dead_, __he thinks to himself, _long dead_. __All he can do now is be by her beloved brother's side, and protect her home and remaining family from the approaching army of the dead.

He hasn't forgotten her – _Arya_. His one true friend, his only family. The person who had cared for him, had saved him more that once. He couldn't save her, and it haunted him. Gendry wills his mind to go blank, as he stares ahead once more, striding ahead to the gates of Winterfell.


	2. Heart to Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Between Arya's visits to the forge, a real conversation.

Arya sits by the roaring fire, an ale in her hand, the massive armchair she is perched in making her appear even smaller than she is. Perfectly still, gazing into the flames, she is seemingly lost in thought. Gendry hesitates. He is still just a blacksmith after all, and she a daughter of Winterfell. But they had been through too much together, and his need to speak with her again is too strong. He urges himself towards her, only for his courage to fail as he glances awkwardly about the room at the other drinkers. 

''Sit'', says Arya, without looking towards him. She motions to the nearest chair, and Gendry hesitates once again. '' Sit down, Gendry'', she repeats, more forcefully. He does. No one gives the pair a second glance, and he relaxes a little as they sit in comfortable silence, enjoying the warmth of the fire. Gendry swigs his ale and wonders what to say to the one person who'd ever really cared for him. 

To his surprise, she speaks first.

''Do you remember the wolf bread?''

Gendry chuckles. ''Of course I do, ugliest thing I've ever seen.'' 

Arya smirks at the memory. ''Nice thought though.'' 

''It was,'' Gendry agrees. ''I wonder what became of Hot Pie''.

''He's still at the Inn.''

''How do you-''

''I was there'' she says, without further explanation, ''He's the same as ever. His wolf bread's looking better though''

''I'm glad he made it through'', says Gendry wistfully.

''We all did. Somehow.'' 

The silence returns as they contemplate the past and the roads that had led them here. Arya has no wish to speak of the last few years – not yet - but Gendry has to know.

''Where have you been, Arya? I thought you were heading for the Twins, and I heard -''

Pain flashes in Arya's eyes, for just the briefest instant, but Gendry doesn't miss it. 

''I heard what happened'' he continues carefully. ''I thought you were dead.''

Arya says nothing and he thinks he's gone too far. She's not ready to talk - it's been too long, and the trust they once had worn thin by the separation and the rift he'd created. _You wouldn't be my family_, echoes in his mind, her tear-filled eyes flashing across his memory. What had she been through, those years they were apart? __

_ _''Almost'', Arya says finally. __

_ __ _

_ __ _

__Gendry's not sure what to make of her reply, and he doesn't push further, even though he's longing to know everything. About how she got here, about the Hound, the elaborate weapon she's asked him to make. Arya doesn't ask for his story, and Gendry doesn't offer it: thoughts of the Red Woman and the shame and fury they bring are something he's long pushed aside. She's not the same Arya he knew, the passionate girl with fire in her eyes. Her emotionless conversation with the Hound in the forge had chilled him. But when Arya's eyes had turned to Gendry, he had seen something behind them that seemed to only be for him. Something behind those grey eyes that gave him hope that the exuberant girl he knew was somewhere within the seemingly icy woman she'd become. _ _

_ _The firelight dances across Arya's face and Gendry feels his heart tighten, just as it did when she'd smiled at him in the forge, her defenses down and her laugh sparkling. She is alive, and she is beautiful. Gendry pushes all thought out of his mind, and savours their moment._ _

_ _''I'm glad you're here'', Arya says into the flames, so quietly, Gendry isn't sure he's heard her words. In that instant, he knows he is hers. And just maybe, she is his as well._ _


	3. Before the Horns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Between the passion and the battle, a tender interlude.

Arya lies atop the lumpy sacks of grain, watching the orange glow of the lanterns dance across the stone walls and listening to the steady rhythm of Gendry's breathing as he dozes beside her. 

''Arya''. 

She's always loved how he says her name. Arya hears Gendry's cloak rustle and she knows he is reaching out to her, but his touch never lands on her body. ''Are you alright?''

Arya turns to face him and finds his deep blue eyes regarding her with concern. ''I am'', she says, ''just a bit sore. I'm sure that's to be expected.'' He nods sleepily.

''I'm sorry I fell asleep,'' says Gendry with a yawn, ''I just couldn't keep my eyes open''

''Well you have been very busy,'' Arya smirks with a quirk of her brow, ''making all of those weapons, I mean.'' Gendry grins at the double meaning. 

''As have you, milady. I'm sure watching me smith is exhausting.'' 

Her easy smile dissolves his hesitation, and he closes the distance between them, running his thumb down her cheek and over her soft lips. When he lifts his gaze from her mouth to her eyes, the light in them has gone dark as she looks at him with an intensity that both elates and concerns him. 

''I thought you were dead too'', she whispers. ''When the Red Woman took you and I couldn't stop her. I'd been so _furious_ with you. And then you were gone.'' Her sadness turns to anger, ''I should have stopped her. I should have _done something_.''____

_ _ _ _''Arya, you were practically a child, what could you have done?''_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _''She hurt you, Gendry! I know she did. And I know it still hurts you.'' _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _''And you?'' he asks,''who hurt you?''_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Gendry's hand glides down Arya's bare shoulder, under the warmth of the cloak. Pulling it back gently, he traces the dark lines gashed across her sides with tenderness. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _''It doesn't matter'' Arya says evasively, ''not anymore,'' ____

_ _ __ _ _

_ _ __ _ _

___She shoots him a defiant look, ready for him to press her, to demand answers, an explanation. Instead, Gendry continues to caress her midsection, his eyes never leaving her body. Then his lips are on her skin, kissing along the lines his fingers had traced. A shudder passes through her. It feels...intimate, almost more so than the act that just taken place. It feels like warmth, and trust, and all the things she thought she would never feel again. It terrifies her, though whether it's the feeling that scares her or the thought of losing it when the dead arrive, she isn't certain._ _ _

_ _ _ _The feeling overwhelms her, and she needs him. Arya gently tilts Gendry's head back up to meet her gaze, and presses a kiss to his lips. It's different, this time. The bravado that had masked her fear as she'd tenaciously questioned and seduced him was gone. What was desperate and raw is now slow and tender, their lips and tongues coming together softly. They part and he rests his forehead on hers, their eyes closed, their hearts beating in time. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _And then...the horns. The dead have arrived. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _They don't move. They remain completely still, freezing the moment in time and hoping it's not their last. Then Arya is out of his arms and pulling on her clothes before Gendry can even react. Finally, he leaps to his feet and dresses as quickly as his shaking hands allow him to. They don't speak; what is there to say? _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Arya grabs the weapon Gendry had crafted for her with care, her face now a mask, hungry for the battle to come. For a moment, he thinks she will leave without a word, but Arya crosses the small room in an instant and is looking at him like she wants to remember every detail. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _''Thank you,'' Arya says, lifting the staff, ''it's beautiful.'' All Gendry can do is pray it will protect her from what's to come. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _''Stay safe,'' he whispers as he takes her face in his hands and their lips meet one last time. Then, she is turning away and sprinting into the darkness. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Quickly making his way into the forge, Gendry takes up his dragonglass hammer and hopes he has the strength to face the long night to come. But he truly has something to fight for now, and losing her once was one time too many. Striding into the courtyard, Gendry meets the Hound, who towers over him wielding his massive ax. As they fall into position, Gendry watches, his heart pounding and his breathing deep, as a small, agile figure climbs the battlements. The Hound follows his gaze up to the battlements and back down at him, and Gendry is surprised to see not wrath or disdain in his eyes, but something like - understanding. Suddenly, facing what's to come with Sandor Clegane at his side is somehow reassuring. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _All he can do now is hope that the dawn will come._ _ _ _


	4. Dawn After Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya and Gendry are reunited after the fall of the dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a difficult chapter for me to write, because I didn't have a clear vision for what should have been, just that there should have been _something_. I felt that a lot was lost in leaving out the aftermath of the battle, not just where Arya and Gendry are concerned (ie skipping straight from the love scene to the proposal), but the emotion of the survival and loss for everyone involved. It's a very introspective chapter but I hope it conveys the emotion I was going for and connects the dots a bit more.__

Inhale.  
Exhale.

Gendry stands frozen, arms over his head, dragonglass hammer in hand. Waiting.

Inhale.  
Exhale.

The dead had fallen. A hush lay over Winterfell's courtyard as those left fighting stopped and prayed and just _waited_ to see if they would rise once again. Then, a cry from the Godswood, ''It's over!''.

It doesn't seem real. It takes a moment for the words and the meaning behind them to penetrate Gendry's consciousness, for him to realize that the nightmare has truly ended. Slowly, painfully he lowers his shaking arms and drops the hammer. It tumbles down the mountain of wight bodies he finds himself standing atop.

Beside him, Tormund lets out a bone-shaking whoop. Jaime falls to his knees as Brienne and Podrick collapse against the stone walls of the courtyard, completely spent. The scattered survivors look around in disbelief, confused and numb. Glad to be alive, but knowing they have lost so many. Gendry's first thought is that he has actually survived, the second is - _where is Arya?_ Making his way down the mountain of death beneath his feet, Gendry's gaze sweeps the courtyard, searching the faces of the living and the dead.

Samwell Tarly sits sobbing, wights under him, above him, around him. _How is he still alive?_ Continuing towards the gate, Gendry catches sight of a small, leather-clad figure motionless on the muddy ground, lifeless. His first thought is that he has found Arya, but as he catches sight of the flowing chestnut hair, Gendry realizes it is the tiny body of the young Lady Mormont, sprawled at the feet of an undead giant.

''Ferocious til the end, that one,'' says Davos suddenly, appearing over Gendry's shoulder and shaking his head sadly. ''I've never seen the like of it. Between her and the young Lady Stark - ''

''You've seen Arya?'' Gendry interrupts, turning swiftly and setting his gaze on the older man.

''Aye,'' replies Davos, nodding thoughtfully, ''swinging her staff like she was born with it in her hand. Saved my life I reckon.''

''When?'' Gendry presses.

Davos looks at him blankly.

''_When did you see her?_''

''It was some time ago, lad,'' Davos says with realization. ''Anything could have happened since then.''

Murmurs echo through the courtyard as Jon and what remains of the Starks emerge from the Godswood. The breath escapes Gendry's body as he finally sees Arya – dazed and unsteady, her face smeared with blood, but alive. Davos pats Gendry's shoulder reassuringly as he takes in the scene, but the rest of the world has faded away. Now that he's seen her, he doesn't know what to do. She's still a lady and he's still a blacksmith, and her highborn family knows nothing of their friendship, never mind their more intimate relationship. Gendry watches helplessly, frozen in place, as Jon helps Arya into the castle. He's unable to look away from where she disappeared until he feels eyes on him.

Bran Stark is fixing him with a piercing gaze Gendry can't look away from – it feels as though the younger man is staring into his soul. _He knows._ Bran's head tips slowly forward into a deep nod, focus never wavering, never breaking eye contact. With just a look, Bran Stark acknowledges Gendry's connection to Arya, his desperate concern for her, reassuring Gendry that Arya is in good hands.

''I will tell her,'' he thinks he hears Bran say. Then he is rolled into the castle, leaving Gendry feeling very alone in a sea of people.

He stumbles to the nearest place of refuge – the forge. Gendry collapses on his small cot and sinks into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Gendry awakens with a start – a figure is by his side, a small hand brushing his cheek. His eyes slowly adjust to the darkness of the forge and as the fog lifts from his exhausted mind he realizes it is Arya. Her bloody jerkin has been discarded and the cloak she's wrapped in gives her an ethereal quality; for a moment Gendry is certain he's dreaming.

''Don't you have anything better to do?'' he whispers fondly.

''Not today,'' Arya responds with a quirk of her lip, lowering her forehead to his. ''I'm glad you're still here.''

''So am I,'' he responds earnestly.

Gendry gently reaches out to the wound on her head, clean now but jagged and nasty. ''You should be resting.'' His hand runs down Arya's cheek and lands on her neck, where he finds the pale skin mottled, burned and bruised by the grip of death itself. ''Arya, what -''

She hesitates and looks away. ''The Night King,'' Arya replies finally, barely above a whisper.

''The Night King,'' Gendry repeats with disbelief, realization dawning. ''It was you.''

''It was me.'' His eyes search Arya's expressionless face, but she is hesitant to turn her gaze to his, unwilling to elaborate further. What is there to say, where would she even begin? What would he think of the things she's done, and what she's become?

She changes the subject.

''And you,'' Arya asks suddenly, turning back to him, her lighter tone returning,''Have you been taken care of?'' She carefully examines the blood-caked cut on Gendry's forehead.

He knows better than to push.

''Have you come to take care of me, milady?'' Gendry teases quietly, the twinkle returning to his blue eyes.

''Shut up,'' Arya retorts, ''Sit back''. He does without question.

She pours water from a nearby pitcher and soaks a clean cloth, then brings it gingerly to Gendry's head wound, removing the congealing blood. She looks down at his filthy tunic streaked with red. ''Is this yours or theirs?''

There was so much confusion, so much carnage, that he genuinely doesn't know. Arya doesn't wait for an answer. She gently lifts the tunic over Gendry's head and runs her hands over his stomach and chest, not with passion this time, but with care. Not finding anything of concern, her eyes meet his again. They don't speak, but they both know what the moment means. They are alive, they have survived as they have always done.

Gendry's arm encircles Arya's shoulders as she sinks into his side. He presses a kiss to the crown of her head and they crumple down onto the tiny cot, where they lie side by side, her body pressed to his and her face buried in his neck. Exhaustion overwhelms them both and they are asleep in moments.

Gendry awakens hours later as daylight streams into the forge. The bed beside him is cold and empty, but his heart is full. It is the dawn of a new day.


	5. Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Over Lord Beric's funeral pyre, Arya and Gendry contemplate the fates, and the roads that led them to Winterfell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short but important interlude between the Long Night and the proposal.

The corpse of Lord Beric Dondarrion lies on a pyre of roughly cut wood, bathed in cold morning light. He had served his life's purpose: his seventh and final death had meant the survival of humanity. No one knew of his sacrifice better than Arya Stark. It was his courage, his determination, his faith in the Lord of Light that had allowed her to slay the Night King and bring the dawn. As Arya gazes down at his pale, bloodied face she contemplates the complexities of fate.

Heavy footsteps fall behind her.

''I wanted to kill him myself.'' she tells Gendry, without looking up. He crouches beside her and tentatively studies Beric himself. Death is everywhere, and his proximity to Beric's remains doesn't shake Gendry in the least, not like it would have only days ago.

''For taking me,'' he says quietly, it's not quite a question. Arya nods, and Gendry absorbs the knowledge she was willing to kill for him, even then.

''I wanted to kill all of them for what they'd done. And now here I am, mourning him.''

''He tried to make amends beyond the Wall.'' Gendry tells her, ''Thought it was the right thing to do to win the war. What's the life of one against the survival of thousands? He was willing to make the same sacrifice himself so I suppose I can't hold it against him.'' Arya contemplates this, and concludes she agrees with his reasoning.

''How did you end up with them?'' she asks Gendry, finally looking at him. ''With Jon.''

''It was Davos,'' Gendry explains, ''He helped me to escape Dragonstone when he discovered what Melisandre planned to do with me, and got me out of King's Landing when he knew the war would soon reach the capital. He wanted to bring me here, I wanted to do what I could.''

''King's Landing? You went back?''

''I did, hid right in plain sight. Had to lay low though,'' Gendry confides, running a hand over his closely-cropped hair.

''That explains it,'' Arya says wryly.

''Well, it worked well enough, I made it here didn't I? You don't like it?'' he teases.

''Does it matter what I like?''

''Of course, milady.'' Their eyes meet and Gendry sees a glimmer of a smile.

They look down once again at Lord Beric's body and the solumnity of the situation returns to the forefront of Gendry's mind.

''I never told him.'' he confesses quietly. Arya raises a questioning brow. ''Your brother. I never told him I knew you. I don't know if it was to shield him or myself from the hard truth of the matter. I thought I had failed you, that you had died because I hadn't been able to protect you. So instead I vowed to do what I could for him. You told me he was a good man, and that was all I needed to know.''

''_You're_ a good man, Gendry. You didn't fail me. Our lives led us in different directions, and we both took the long road. But like Beric, we ended up just where we needed to be when we were needed the most.''

''And now here we are.''

''Here we are.''

Arya and Gendry rise to their feet with a final look at Lord Beric, before surveying the aftermath of unimaginable suffering. He is but one in a sea of hundreds, who fought and died so that the rest may live, and it is time to honour their sacrifice.


	6. After the Heartbreak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conversation doesn't end with 'that's not me.'

She can't bear to see the heartbreak on his face, and can't risk her determination faltering. So, Arya turns and raises another arrow, her look of concentration masking the turmoil within. For the first time in years, she misses her target.

''That's what you think?'' Gendry questions with disbelief, ''That I want you to be something you're not?''

''You want me to be a lady.''

A hit this time, but nowhere near the bullseye.

''I want you to be with me,'' Gendry counters, closing the distance between them, ''It doesn't mean I want you to change who you are. You know me, Arya, you know I would never expect that of you''.

Reluctantly, Arya puts her mask back in place and turns to face him.

''You're a Lord now, Gendry, there are expectations,'' she says, trying to sound matter-of-fact. She doesn't meet anyone's notion of what the wife of a Lord should be, and gaining acceptance will be struggle enough for him without the additional burden of her.

''Yes, I'm a Lord! But only because the Dragon Queen thinks she can buy my allegiance, and the only reason that being legitimized means anything to me, is that it means there's a way for us! I'm still the same person -''

''Well I'm not!'' Arya's mask slips, and her fiery gaze meets his. ''I'm not the girl you knew, and I'm not someone you should have by your side. The other Lords - ''

''Fuck the other Lords!'' Gendry erupts. Arya studies him carefully, taking in the anger that melts into concern.

''Where have you been, Arya? What's happened to you?'' On instinct, Gendry takes her chin in his hand, and tilts her gaze towards him, searching her face. Catching himself, he thinks for a second it will only serve to push Arya further away. Instead, her expression softens and she takes a deep breath.

''I had nothing left. I took the coin Jaqen H'gar gave me and sailed to Braavos. I found him at the House of Black and White and he trained me to fight, to kill, to – stop feeling. I tried to be no one and found I was still Arya Stark. I tried to leave and they tried to kill me.'' Arya's hand moves to her waist, fingers grazing over where the scars lay beneath the thick leather of her jerkin.

''The girl you knew died at the Twins with my family,'' Arya continues, seemingly mourning who she once was and life she once had before it all fell apart with the death of Jon Arryn. ''You don't know the things I've done, the people I've killed, what I've become. You deserve so much more than I can give you.''

''We've all done terrible things to survive, Arya.'' Gendry tells her gently, ''You're right, I don't know what you've done. But I do know you, and you've never let anyone tell you what to do or how to behave. Our life can be whatever we make it.''

Gendry brings a hand to Arya's cheek and gently runs his thumb along her jawline. Her eyes flutter closed and she leans into his touch. For a moment it's just their hearts beating in the stillness as the air hangs heavily around them in the glow of the firelight.

''Do you love me?'' Gendry murmurs, breaking the silence. He's seen it in her eyes, felt it in every kiss. It had radiated from her being, consuming him as their bodies had met before the battle and warming him as she washed the blood from his wounds after it. Gendry knows it may not be enough to bind her heart to his, but all he can do is hope.

Arya's eyes flicker open and her steel grey meet his brilliant blue. She sees in them their past and their present, and for just a moment their future as well. Arya thinks of how full her heart could be, and what it would be like to truly love and trust and _feel _again. She wants the words to form on her lips, the ones that would bring the light back into the expressive eyes before her. They sit on the tip of her tongue, waiting to be set free.

''I - ''

He's looking at her with such love and such hope, this man who was once all she had in the world. She has to keep him safe, body and soul.

''I can't be what you want me to be. I'm sorry.'' With that, Arya slips into the night, leaving the new Lord Gendry Baratheon to contemplate what might have been.

Striding purposefully toward her chambers, Arya clears her mind of all but one thought: that Cersei Lannister had to die.

And Arya Stark was going to make it happen.


	7. The Dragon Pit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the council, Gendry and Arya say goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter before the post-canon epilogue - don't forget about that happy ending tag :)

The wars were over, both queens were dead, and the Three-Eyed Raven sat on the Iron Throne. Sansa would rule from Winterfell. And Jon was to return to the Wall, never having fulfilled his birthright. Everyone had their place but Arya.

She hadn't expected to see Gendry at the Dragon Pit. He was still a new lord, one who was still learning the role and establishing his place at Storm's End. Besides, he had never cared about power or politics. But there he was, and it had taken everything Arya had to avoid his gaze during the council. She had felt Gendry's eyes on her, the distinctive prickle at the back of her neck telling her all she needed to know. She'd managed to catch a glimpse while his attention was elsewhere. He looked every inch a lord, his handsome features accentuated by the new jerkin of dark leather, which made his blue eyes shine like the sea.

With decisions made, the council concludes and those in attendance rise to take their first steps towards their roles in the new kingdom. As they disperse, Arya wants nothing more than to make her escape, knowing that Gendry will find his way to her and that if they speak, she will break his heart further, or her resolve will crumble. She doesn't want either.

In the end, it is not Gendry who prompts a conversation between them, but a wholly unexpected source of encouragement.

''You must tell him, Arya,'' pronounces Bran evenly, ''Your story has not ended.''

Arya's steely gaze flies to her brother's, eyes flashing. What does Bran know about matters of the heart anymore? Then again, Arya knows nothing about them herself, she never had and maybe she never would. But she begrudgingly admits to herself that Bran is right; she owes Gendry that much.

''I'll meet you outside,'' Arya tells her siblings curtly, and makes her way toward Gendry, who is deep in conversation with Davos and desperately trying to avoid watching the Starks leave.

Sansa studies the scene before her intently before raising a brow and fixing Bran with a questioning look. Arya had never been one for romance, and as far as Sansa knew, she hadn't even met the new Lord of Storm's End. Bran is unmoved by his sister's withering stare.

''It will all become clear, dear sister,'' says Bran cryptically. Sansa knows that's all she will get from him, and they make their way out of the Dragon Pit. Davos too excuses himself when he sees Arya approaching, offering a nod before making a hasty exit and suddenly they are alone.

''It suits you,'' Arya says warmly, nodding toward Gendry's lordly attire.

''You think so?'' Gendry muses, ''Feels a bit silly really. It's like I've stepped into someone else's life,'' he continues, ''and I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel or behave.'' Arya can see the realization in Gendry's eyes as he speaks, ''That's what you meant isn't it? When you said it wasn't you.''

''Gendry, I - '' Arya begins tentatively.

''Look,'' he says quickly, afraid of what she will say, ''I shouldn't have asked what I did, not the way that I did. You're not just beautiful...you're strong and smart, and – well, a bit scary_.'' _Arya's lips quirk into the cheeky smile he loves so much, and he rushes ahead.

''And you're not a lady, I know that – you've always said so, and I should have listened. But I had nothing all my life, and suddenly I had the chance to have everything I ever wanted. I thought you loved me, that we could be happy.''

''It wasn't about you, Gendry. You have been the one person I have trusted, the one who made me feel when I was numb. Bastard blacksmith or Lord Paramount, it's all the same to me. But it's not the life I want, not now. And I – I'm leaving Westeros. I sail tomorrow.''

The look on Gendry's face cuts her to the core. But Arya knows what she has to do, and playing a part for his sake will only destroy them both in the long run.

''Where will you go?'' he finally manages.

''I haven't sorted that part out yet, not really,'' Arya admits, ''All these years of struggle, all this killing, it's made me into someone I don't know. I need a clean slate, a fresh start that will let me become Arya Stark again, and I can't do it here.''

''I imagine you can't do it with me by your side either. I meant what I said, about the title not meaning a thing without you, and I would sail away with you in heartbeat if you asked me to.'' Arya begins to speak, but Gendry quiets her with a gentle wave of his hand.

''But you won't ask me. And when I said I didn't want you to be something you're not, that was the truth too. I want _you_, Arya Stark, not any other version of you. If you need time to find her again, then you should have it.''

Arya's stomach flutters at his words. It is not the reaction she had expected, and Arya finds herself once again affected by Gendry's warmth and sincerity. He is just Gendry, and she wants nothing more to be just Arya again. But to return to who she was, she needs to first fly free.

''I don't expect you to wait for me,'' Arya makes herself say, ''in fact I don't want you to. A lord deserves a lady to make him happy.''

''I'm not going to have time for any ladies, Arya.'' Gendry retorts cheekily,'' I have a holdfast to run, don't you know.''

He continues more seriously, a thoughtful look in his eyes, ''When the Dragon Queen made me a Baratheon, all I could think about was what it meant for us, and when you left Winterfell, I almost told Her Highness where to stick this lordship. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was a gift. With this title, I can truly do something with my life, by making a difference to the people of the Stormlands and helping them to rebuild. I can help the ones who are like we were on the King's Road – with nothing and no one. Feed them, clothe them, teach them, give them all the chances I never had.''

''That sounds like a wonderful idea, Gendry,'' says Arya sincerely.

He nods thoughtfully before steeling himself and continuing.

''I don't need a lady, Arya, but I would like to have a partner. An equal, who will build the Stormlands with me and lead its people.''

''Gendry - ''

''Two years,'' he says decisively.

''What?'' asks Arya, grey eyes wide.

''I'll wait for you, for two years. I'll get settled in the Stormlands, lay the foundation for all the changes to come, better myself as much as I can so I can be the lord I need to be. If you haven't returned to me in two years, I'll know your answer. And I promise you, I will do everything I can to move on.''

Arya studies him silently and carefully, expressive brows furrowed. Gendry starts to think maybe she really doesn't love him after all, that a life with him truly isn't the life she wants. Gendry prepares himself for what Arya is about to say, but doesn't regret risking his heart once again. Arya Stark is worth risking everything for.

''It won't be an easy voyage,'' she begins truthfully, ''I can't be certain I'll return to Westeros, or even survive the journey.''

Gendry's heart sinks at the thought, but Arya continues.

''If I do return, I can't know what will be in my heart.'' She takes a deep breath and boldly meets his gaze. ''But I accept your terms.''

In an instant, Gendry's arms are around her and Arya's feet have left the ground. To her surprise, Arya finds herself sinking into his embrace. Gendry sets her down, and takes her hands in his.

''Take good care of yourself, Arya. Don't pick fights with anyone bigger than you,'' he teases.

''Then I wouldn't be able to fight with anyone,'' Arya retorts with a grin.

Gendry returns her smile with warm affection, and suddenly Arya's lips on his, her kiss soft and tender. Then, she is gone, and Gendry is once again alone in the world. But now, he has a purpose, and he has hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I first saw the finale, I was on team He Was on the Boat. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that if it was going to be canon that Arya sails away (don't get me started on that), then it should give her the time and space she needs to find herself again so that she can come back to Gendry and be genuinely happy with him. 
> 
> I had trouble writing this part of the story at first, then suddenly I got inspired and it became my longest chapter. I'm pretty happy with how it turned out and I hope it made you happy too! :)


	8. Epilogue - New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Westeros is reborn, and Arya returns home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ending we all deserved.

Westeros flourished under the reign of Bran the Broken. The very day he had been named ruler, the rebuilding of the kingdom had begun, and King's Landing had emerged from the ashes like a phoenix. It was no longer only the nobles who lived comfortably within the city walls: even Fleabottom was reborn and was no longer a foul-smelling hovel, but a place where even the poorest were taken care of. The new keep was renamed The Raven's Nest, a modest center of power from which the kingdom could be efficiently run, with very little of the opulence the previous rulers had displayed.

Tyrion thrived as the King's Hand, doing everything he could to atone for past mistakes; Brienne and Sam both paved the way for change, with Brienne introducing a program to train women for the Kingsguard and Sam's appointment as Grand Maester leading to an amendment in the rules regarding marriage and children for those in the Order. Podrick basked in the glow of his new title and the attention from the ladies of King's Landing, while Davos' days as a smuggler had made him an ideal Master of Ships, and he found himself enjoying the role greatly. Bronn's place on the Small Council, on the other hand, was short-lived, coming to a quick end when it was discovered he was pilfering from the kingdom's coffers.

The Iron Islands had declared independence a mere six moons after the Dragon Pit council, but the Six Kingdoms (for there were still six remaining) maintained a staunch ally in Queen Yara, who successfully launched new trade routes, supplied ships, and pledged to defend both the Kingdom and the North if the need arose. The North was also rebuilding, and Sansa was proving to be a strong and capable ruler who had quickly won the respect of the realm. Beyond the Wall, Jon had made peace with his fate, though he found it hard to forgive himself for the actions he'd taken. Tormund had managed to move on from 'the Big Woman', and had married a Northerner who had lost her entire family and decided to begin anew with the Wildlings; their child was expected in a moon's turn.

Then, there was Gendry. Determined to make the most of the gift he had been granted, he has immersed himself in his new role as the Lord Paramount of the Stormlands. Lord Baratheon's days are filled with hearing petitions, meeting with lords, visiting the common folk, and implementing new ideas. Homes had been built, crops planted, the needy fed, and those who desired it educated. In the evenings, Gendry works on his reading and letters, and if time permits (which it rarely does), he escapes to the forge and makes steel sing. Gendry enjoys being busy - the more full his days, the more his thoughts of Arya Stark are kept at bay, though at night his dreams are haunted by grey eyes and a swirling sea.

Weeks and months slip by until finally the day arrives that marks two years since Arya left Westeros and set sail for uncharted waters. There has been no word from her, and Gendry knows he shouldn't be surprised. She had told him she wasn't the same Arya he'd known, that the glimpse of her he'd seen behind the cold grey eyes was lost among the hurt, pain, and violence of the intervening years. He'd known the chances of her returning were slim, but still he'd held out hope – until today. Defeated and heartbroken, Gendry sits on his bed in his grand chambers, slumped forward, head in his hands. It is time, he realizes, to accept that Arya is never coming back, whether due to the dangers of the sea or her own volition, he would never know.

''Gendry.''

Startled, Gendry whips his head up to see her emerge from the shadows of his chambers. _Arya_. He'd played it over dozens of times in his mind, what it would be like to have her there with him, and now here she was. Rising from the bed, he takes a step toward her and stares in disbelief: he can't quite believe she's real and not an exhaustion-induced vision. Gendry is overwhelmed with relief, thankful for her safe return and elated that she has found her way to him. At the same time, he can't believe she'd made him wait until the last bloody moment.

''Do you know what day it is?'' Gendry asks irritably, reflecting on how he'd felt just moments before.

''Of course I know,'' Arya scoffs lightly, ''why do you think I'm here?''

''Cutting it a bit close aren't you?'' Gendry prods, his annoyance fading quickly as he takes in the woman before him. Her hair is longer, her face has been kissed by the sun, and her flowing blue tunic is a far cry from the rigid jerkins she once favoured.

''I wanted to know what it was like,'' Arya tells him, ''Storm's End, I mean.''

''And what is it like?'' Gendry asks with genuine curiosity.

Arya ponders for a moment. ''Wild,'' she settles on, ''Beautiful''

''Sounds like someone I know.''

Gendry is the only person who had ever called Arya beautiful, but she had never truly believed his words until that moment. The corner of her mouth quirks and her eyes shine a bit brighter as she regards him carefully, taking in every detail.

''You're a good Lord, Gendry,'' Arya tells him, ''I knew you would be. Your people respect you, love you even. You've done a lot for them, it seems.''

''And how do you know what my people think?'' he questions,''You've only just arrived''

Arya hops up onto the heavy dark wood of Gendry's desk and plucks an apple from the fruit bowl perched there. She smirks as she takes a noisy bite. Gendry's eyes widen.

''Haven't you?'' he exclaims, ''How long have you been here??''

''Eight days.'' Arya replies flippantly.

''Eight days!?'' Gendry repeats incredulously, ''Eight bloody days, and you didn't tell me?! I've been worried sick!'' he sputters, ''I thought you weren't coming back!''

''I almost didn't,'' Arya says quietly.

''I see.'' Gendry turns away from her, jaw clenched. _She isn't sure, even now._ Arya sets down the apple, hops down from the desk and crosses to him, gently pressing a palm to Gendry's back. He turns to her and Arya feels a tugging at her heart.

''Not because I didn't want to, not because I don't – '' she began. Arya takes a moment to collect her thoughts, stepping away and turning to the towering stone fireplace, peering into the dancing flames. She needs him to understand, not just why she had come back to him, but what had led her away. Turning to face Gendry once again, she continues on.

''It was an incredible adventure. We discovered islands untouched by man, creatures the likes of which no one has ever seen. There was colour, and life, and space to breathe. I was free, to go where I wished, with no one to kill, no one looking to kill me. I was just Arya Stark. Not a Lady, not No One, not the Bringer of Dawn. Just me.''

''Arya, why are you here?'' Gendry asks sadly, ''If the sea is where you belong, then -''

''There was a storm,'' she cuts in, ''Fiercest storm my crew had ever seen in all their years at sea. The masts snapped, the ship almost capsized, water was flooding in. All was lost, it seemed. And all I could think of was the bloody Hound.''

Gendry raises a brow.

''He told me to live,'' Arya continues, ''The day King's Landing burned. Didn't want me to end up angry and alone like him. And I realized that I wasn't angry anymore, but I was alone. I had left all the people I love – Jon, Sansa, Bran – and _you_.'' Gendry's eyes widen and hope returns to his soul.

''I knew then that I had to come back. When the storm finally passed and the seas calmed, we set course for Westeros. It was time to come home.''

Gendry studies her silently for a few moments as he takes it all in, before a hint of a smile lights his face.

''So you _do_ love me''

''I think you know the answer to that,'' Arya mutters, suddenly very interested in the tapestries on the wall.

''Do I?''

''I'm here, aren't I?''

Gendry raises his brows in a smirk and shrugs his shoulders. Arya takes this as a challenge, and she was never one to resist a challenge. She closes the distance between them, hands clasped behind her back, steps determined and gaze steady. Stopping inches from him, Arya looks steadily into the blue eyes she's seen in her dreams for the past two years.

''I love you.''

It's not the response Gendry expects from her, and his heart soars. It's still Arya, _his_ Arya, but the change in her since the last time they spoke is tangible. The darkness has lifted from her, and the coldness has left her grey eyes. She looks...content. At peace. Free.

Taking Arya's face in his hands, Gendry brings his lips to meet hers. Almost a decade of emotion flows between them, from their unbreakable bond on the King's Road, their devastating separation and passionate reunion, the heartbreak, the emptiness of the past two years, and finally this very moment. It all hits them at once, and they are lost in each other. The passionate kiss fades into a warm embrace, as Gendry's arms slip around Arya's shoulders, pulling her to his chest as she reaches out to encircle his waist.

''I love you too,'' Gendry murmurs into Arya's hair, and her eyes flutter closed, as she listens to his heartbeat.

Arya suddenly pulls back and the softness in her eyes turns fiery.

''I still can't be the type of Lady one would expect a Lord Paramount to have,'' she states emphatically.

''And I still would never expect you to be.''

''I know. I know that now. You know me too well for that. And you know what I would do to you if you tried to make me,'' she says, raising a threatening brow.

''I do,'' Gendry grins.

''But I want to stay,'' Arya continues, softening. ''To make a home with you. To continue with your work, making the Stormlands a better place for your people, especially those who need our help the most. Those like we were on the King's Road, when we had nothing.''

''We had each other,'' Gendry reminds her.

''We did.'' Arya agrees softly, ''We do.''

Gendry's hand brushes her cheek, and he can scarcely believe the unexpected direction his life has taken once again. He's promptly brought back to reality when a sudden thought enters his mind.

''What should we tell the Lords, I wonder.'' Gendry ponders with amusement. ''They've spent the past two years trying to talk me into marrying one of their very proper, very boring daughters, or sisters, or cousins. I'm not sure you're what they have in mind for me.''

''Fuck the lords, I seem to remember you saying,'' Arya reminds him, unconcerned with what anyone will think.

''That does sound like me.''

''We tell them,'' Arya says, closing the space between them,''that you are mine, and I am yours. That's all that matters.''

All that matters, thinks Gendry, is right here in his arms. The missing piece each held in their heart for the past two years has been filled, and with it comes a promise of a life together. Their lips meet again, and this time it isn't thoughts of the past that sweep through them, but the notion of their future and everything that comes with it. Love, happiness, and _family_.

''Welcome home, Arya.''

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you've enjoyed my vision for how things should have been, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Thanks for reading!!


End file.
